


family history

by ndnickerson



Series: ladybug [4]
Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Childhood, Children, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Married Couple, Married Life, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3767182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth is assigned a family history project at school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	family history

After breakfast Saturday morning, Beth brushed her teeth, then went to her room and put on one of her favorite shirts. She had found it during a trip to a thrift shop with her Aunt Bess, and her mother and father had both chuckled happily when they had seen it. The shirt was a kind of speckled blue, and it had a pony on it. Aunt Bess had specifically asked her to try it on, but Beth hadn't known why; then her mother had shown her a picture of her old car, the one she had driven when she had been eighteen, and she saw the same pony on the car. It was her Mustang-shirt.

She returned to the kitchen in jean shorts and sneakers. Her mother was putting small potatoes into the slow cooker, and smiled when she saw her. "All dressed, ladybug?"

Beth nodded. "Mom, can you braid my hair?"

Her mother looked down at her wet hands and the carrots, and the big package of meat on the counter. "I can, but if you don't want to wait... Ned, sweetie?"

Beth's dad came into the kitchen with E.J. on his shoulders. E.J. looked like a smaller version of their dad, but he was skinny where Beth's dad had big shoulders and strong arms. He swung E.J. down and he giggled as his dad placed him back on his feet. Then E.J. charged over to their mother and tugged at her jeans leg.

"What's up?"

Beth's mother nodded in her direction. "My hands are a little full... hey, bulldozer. You want to help me? I need an onion."

Beth came over to her father as E.J. found his stool and dragged it over so he could help his mother. "Braid my hair?"

"Sure, honey. I need your brush and a hair-thing."

Other dads, Beth had discovered, weren't like her dad. Girls in her class were surprised when Beth said that her dad had French-braided her hair, or that he played soccer with her. Beth loved both her parents, and they both spent time with her; her mother took her to her scouts meetings and her soccer matches, and helped her with her spelling words. Her father made her laugh and taught her how to roller-blade.

Beth smiled when he combed through her hair and then began to braid it. He started over once, but she didn't mind. "So you excited about hanging out with Nana and Papa today?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good." Her father wrapped her braid in the tie she had brought, then patted her back. "You look beautiful, ladybug."

Beth turned around and gave him a hug. "Thanks for breakfast."

He chuckled. "So strawberry pancakes were a winner, huh."

Beth nodded. Strawberries were her favorite; during the summer, they went to the farmer's market and Beth was always drawn to the crates and buckets full of big, deep-red strawberries. Her Nana made a strawberry cake for her birthday every year, and Hannah made cupcakes for her birthday parties. "Mmmmm."

He kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you liked it. We had some left over, so maybe we can do strawberry shortcakes for dessert tonight or tomorrow."

Beth's eyes widened. "I'll be here for dinner?"

He chuckled again. "I know you love having dinner with Nana and Papa, but we'll have dinner with them tomorrow. Sorry. Mom's making pot roast, though, so that will be good."

Her mother drove her over to her grandparents' house, and at the beginning of their ride she had to take a phone call. Beth glanced over at her. Her mother always looked so pretty. She wore her wedding rings, the pretty diamond that Beth's dad had given her when they had decided to get married, and then the silver ring that matched the one her dad wore. Her eyes were so beautiful. Beth's eyes matched her father's, but she thought her father had such beautiful eyes, too.

Then her mom ended the call and glanced over at her with a smile. "Sorry about that. So Tanya invited you to sleep over Friday night?"

Beth nodded. "Can I go?"

"If you want to, sure you can. Maybe in a few weeks, you can have a sleepover too. That would be nice. We can see if your dad will make pizza."

Beth grinned. "And dessert pizza?"

"With plenty of strawberries, I'm sure." Her mother smiled at her, and gently brushed the tip of her nose. "You remembered to bring your assignment, right?"

Beth nodded, reaching down to idly rub her finger against the edge of the band-aid covering a scrape on her knee. "Yep."

The assignment was most of the reason Beth was going over to her grandparents' house. For as long as she could remember, though, she had loved going to Mapleton to see them. Her Papa liked to take her to the soda fountain in town and let her order whatever she wanted, and then they would walk over to the library or the little bookstore downtown and he would let her look through all the books for as long as she wanted, and check one out or buy it for her if she asked. Then they would find a little treat for her Nana and take it home to her. Last time, it had been a pretty bookmark with a flower inside. Beth had been fascinated by it, and then her mother had shown her how to press flowers so she could have one like that too.

Beth's parents knew _everything._ Beth wanted to know everything too. She always carried a magnifying glass and a compass and a whistle in her bag, along with two plastic containers and a notepad and pen for clues or neat things she found. For Christmas she had been given a science kit with a microscope, and she loved finding new things to investigate with it. A sample from the Muskoka River had been full of little wiggly things under her microscope. She had been fascinated.

Her assignment for today wouldn't involve her microscope or her magnifying glass, but she was still excited about it.

Her Nana was standing at the door and smiling when Beth's mother walked her up the front steps, and Beth greeted her with a big grin and a hug. "Hi Nana."

"Hey, ladybug," her grandmother said. "It's so good to see you."

Once Beth's mother hugged her goodbye, Beth and her grandmother went to the kitchen. The room was big and bright, and Beth glanced at the cookie jar; every time she had ever come over, the cookie jar had always been full of cookies or other treats. She saw a big clear bowl of dough on the counter, covered with a towel. She saw a cookbook with a bunch of colored tabs sticking out.

"Well, your shirt is too pretty to spoil by going outside and gardening. Maybe next time." Her grandmother gave her a smile. She had blue eyes like Beth's mom, even though she was her dad's mother. "Your Papa is bringing home Brunswick stew for lunch, though, so that will be a treat."

Beth nodded.

"Your mom said you had a school project?"

Beth nodded again. "Miss Randolph said we should talk to someone in our family, about our history," she said, unzipping her backpack and reaching for her somewhat battered binder. It was covered with stickers. "So Mom said that maybe you would want to talk to me."

Her grandmother smiled again. "That was very sweet of your mom. We could talk about your namesake."

"Great-grandma?"

She nodded. "I think we should have a drink, though. Chocolate milk?"

They went over to the kitchen table and Beth climbed up into the chair beside her grandmother, her sneakered feet dangling. "So your great-grandma was your Papa's mother, and she was born a long time ago. She was very pretty, and she had dark eyes like you. Her parents owned a store in town that sold groceries, and she worked there when she came home from school."

Beth's eyes were wide. She had pulled out the worksheet she was supposed to fill out for homework, and her pencil was in her hand and ready to write, but she had never heard this story, and she was fascinated. "She did?"

Her grandmother nodded. "So this was a long time ago, and people couldn't make ice in their houses like we can now. Your great-grandmother Elizabeth was sitting behind the counter at her family's shop when a guy a few years older than she was came in. He was tall and he had kind eyes. And he asked if she wanted to buy any ice.

"She didn't need any ice, so she told him she was sorry, and he left. But for the rest of the day she wondered about him.

"For the rest of that week, even when Elizabeth wasn't there but her sisters were, that young man kept coming back. He wore suspenders and a brown hat, but they remembered him because he carried a green rag in his back pocket. He came back and asked every day, and they always told him no.

"Then he came in and Elizabeth was back, and he asked her again if she needed any ice. She didn't answer him right away. She wished that she could see him again, but she couldn't say that. So she told him no.

"He came in the next day, too. He picked up a bag of candy and bought it, and asked if she needed any ice. She said no, but she had a feeling that maybe he wanted to ask her more."

Beth was just gazing at her grandmother, her milk untouched, her pencil motionless.

"Finally he asked her if she was going steady with anyone, and she told him she wasn't. Going steady meant if she had a boyfriend or not, if she was in love with anyone or not," she explained, when Beth's brow furrowed and she began to open her mouth to ask. "He took her on a picnic down by the river, and he didn't talk a lot during their picnic, and she thought he didn't like her. Her family... they didn't have a lot of money. She had to work in the shop because her family needed her there, it wasn't just so she could earn her allowance.

"But then two days later he came in and handed her a letter."

Beth tilted her head.

"He was able to talk to her in his letters, in a way that he couldn't talk when he was around her. He couldn't talk because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen."

"Oh," Beth said softly, and smiled. "Daddy says Mommy is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen."

Her grandmother nodded with a smile. "Your daddy has been in love with your mommy for a long time," she said. "And your great-grandad and your great-grandma loved each other for a long time, too, but he went away to war soon after they fell in love with each other. He fought for two years, and he was very brave. And while he was gone, he sent your great-grandma letters. He told her how much he loved her and how he couldn't wait to come back to her, about the house he would build for her and the family he would have with her.

"Do you want to see the letters?"

Beth nodded immediately, her dark eyes wide. "That would be so neat," she breathed, awed.

Her grandmother smiled. "Let's go up in the attic. I know they're in a cedar chest, and we'll probably find a lot of other neat things in there."

The attic was full of stacked boxes and so many wonderful things, a dressmaker's dummy, the crib that E.J. had slept in when he was a little baby, toys and stuffed animals that had belonged to Beth's father, an old suitcase covered in stickers, a smaller case that Beth's grandmother told her held a trumpet. Then they found the right chest and took it downstairs. By then, Beth's Papa had come home with two containers of Brunswick stew. Beth gave him a hug, and then helped her grandmother make the rolls they would eat with their lunch.

"I was just telling Beth about your parents. She's working on a school project."

"Oh," her grandfather said with a smile. "So did your Nana tell you that he helped me build this house?"

Beth shook her head, looking up into her Papa's face. "He did?"

"Oh, yes. I wanted to show your Nana how much I loved her, and I decided to build her a house where we could live and start our family. I found a great place to put it, so your Nana could have a big backyard and she could grow her flowers and have a garden. And we had plenty of space for your dad to play."

Beth felt warm with happiness, hearing about her father. She loved hearing about her relatives, but she was even happier to hear about her parents.

Beth picked around the green beans in the stew—she didn't like them very much, but she loved the rest of it—and ate all of a roll. Then she washed her hands, standing on the stool her grandmother kept in the kitchen so she could reach the big, deep sink, and her heart was beating so hard when Nana pulled out a plastic bag of letters.

The paper was old and brittle, and came in a lot of different sizes and colors. The creases in the letters were almost like tears, and the handwriting was spidery and a little faded. Beth touched the edge of one letter with a pink-polished fingertip, letting out an awed sigh. "It's so neat," she whispered. She recognized her own name at the top of the letter, in that old handwriting. _To my dearest Elizabeth._

Her Nana nodded. "It is," she agreed. "Do you want to see her wedding veil? Your great-aunt wore it at her wedding."

By the end of the afternoon, Beth had filled up her entire worksheet and the back, too. Her grandmother had pulled out her camera, and had taken pictures of Beth with the veil and with some of her namesake's other things too, including a pretty hair clip that Beth wished she could take home. Beth's mother had given her an old camera of hers like her grandmother's, because her mom just took photos with her phone, or with a big expensive camera that she carried in a special bag.

Then her grandfather answered the phone, and he smiled when he looked over at her. "Yep, ladybug's doing fine," he told the person on the other end, and Beth was pretty sure he was talking to her dad. "I think we'll just give her a few more cookies before we bring her home."

Her grandmother packed up a bag of cookies for Beth to take home after she had finished one. "Now don't let your dad eat all these," she told Beth with a grin. Then she gave her a long hug. "I liked talking to you today, sweetie. Come over and see me whenever you want, okay? I love you."

"Love you too," Beth said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Beth's grandfather drove her back to her parents' house. When they were pulling out of Mapleton, Beth leaned forward.

"Papa? Do I look like your mom?"

"Well, ladybug, you look a lot like _your_ mom. But you have your daddy's eyes, so you have your great-grandma Elizabeth's eyes too. You come from a long line of strong, determined ladies. She loved strawberries too."

Beth's eyes widened. "Oh," she murmured, and smiled. She had never met her great-grandmother, but that felt like a connection to her.

Back at her house, as soon as E.J. saw the bag of cookies, he ran toward Beth; he loved their Nana's cookies, just like everyone. Beth's parents were holding hands as they came in after E.J., and Beth's Papa gave her dad and mom and brother each a hug before he waved goodbye and told them that he would see them the next day.

"Have a good time, sweetheart?"

Beth nodded eagerly. "It was so neat," she told her mom breathlessly. "I filled out my whole worksheet and Nana took pictures! I saw her wedding—the wedding hat!"

"Her veil," Beth's mom said with a smile. "I'm glad you had fun, honey."

While Beth set the table and her mother started serving the bowls, Beth just couldn't stop talking about all she had learned. "And he was at war for _two years._ And Papa said great-grampa helped build his house! And great-gramma loved strawberries _too_ ," Beth said breathlessly. "It's so neat."

Her mom smiled. "It is really neat, ladybug."

Then Beth looked up at her mom. Her mom's mom was in heaven, and her mom hadn't known her for very long. She wondered if her mom was sad that Beth hadn't been able to talk to _her_ about her family.

She went over to her and wrapped her arms around her, and her mother let out a little surprised sigh, then gently patted her head as she looped her other arm around Beth's shoulders to hug her back. "What's wrong, honey?"

Beth shook her head. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too," her mom said. "I'm glad you were able to hang out with your Nana today and talk to her about all that."

Then Beth's dad and E.J. came in, and they finished serving the plates and sat down to eat. E.J. didn't like carrots, so Beth took one of his and ate it, once he had pushed it aside with a grimace. She loved her mom's pot roast.

"Mom? Can you show me how to make this?"

Her mom's eyes widened, and then she smiled and nodded. "Sure I can, honey. You can help me next time."

E.J. finished his milk and placed the cup back on the table with a click. "Mmm! Time for cookies!"

Beth's father chuckled. "Almost, tiger."

"Dad? Did you write Mommy letters when you two were going steady?"

Beth's father chuckled. "'Going steady'? Haven't heard that in a while. But yeah, I did. And she wrote me letters too."

"And you have them?" Beth asked, her eyes wide. She had never really thought about her parents writing letters to each other.

"Mmm-hmm. I know I have them packed with my college stuff. She wrote me and sent me postcards from a lot of neat places."

When Beth turned to look at her mother, her mom was smiling. "It's sweet that you kept them all this time."

"Of course Daddy would keep your letters!"

Beth's dad chuckled again and patted her on the head. "Of course," he agreed. "Because your mom and you and your Nana are my favorite girls in the whole world, and I kept everything your mom ever gave me. So I could feel close to her even when she was away traveling."

Beth sighed. "It's so romantic," she said.

Her mother laughed. "For a second there, you were the spitting image of your Aunt Bess," she said. "She used to say that, too. Whenever your dad would give me flowers or take me on a romantic date."

"Or punch some guy threatening you." When Beth turned to him with wide eyes, he shook his head. "No, no. Nothing. Forget I said that."

E.J., who had been fidgeting in his chair, looked at his father with wide eyes too. "Someone threatened Mommy?"

"Now see what you've done?" Beth's mom said with a little smile before standing up and starting to clear the table.

After all four of them finished clearing the table and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, Beth's mom suggested that they take the cookies out into the backyard and take advantage of the last of the sunlight. Their parents sat on the porch in the swing while Beth and E.J. raced each other to the treehouse. Soon it would be summer, and they would be at their grandpa's house in River Heights or at Nana and Papa's in Mapleton while their parents were at work, helping Nana and Hannah with their gardening and canning, riding bikes and playing pirates and cops and robbers, and playing school. E.J. had junked up the treehouse with his muscly action people and superheroes, so Beth loaded them up in the bucket and lowered them to the ground to take them inside. She had a little flower box on the side, along with the can and string she and E.J. used to communicate when one of them was on the ground, and soon she would have some flowers. She had planted the seeds herself, with her mom's help.

E.J. grabbed his glove and ball from the plastic case in the corner and began to scramble down the ladder again. "Mom! Catch?"

They set up a little game, throwing pitches to E.J. so he could practice batting, and Beth scrambled after the ball when he swung and missed; then they switched off. Beth's dad suggested that he could hit a few, but Beth's mom gave him a stern look and said that the _last_ time they had played that together, a few windows had been broken. Then E.J. started begging, and she swept him up into her arms and started tickling him, and he collapsed in a fit of giggles.

"I think we need some milk with these cookies," Beth's mom said as she put E.J. down again. "What do you think, tiger?"

He ran inside, and Beth's mom followed. Beth was looking up; the first star had appeared in the dusk, and the moon was already up. The same moon that her great-grandma and great-grandpa had seen before she was even born.

"Ready to go inside, ladybug?"

Beth nodded, coming over to her dad and putting her hand in his. "Did you ever take Mommy for a picnic at the river?" she asked.

"Yeah. More than a few times. Sometimes your Aunt Bess and Aunt George came along too. Playing chaperone."

"What's that?"

Her father chuckled. "Nothing. —Well, it's spelled with a c-h-a, not an s-h-a, since I know you're going to look it up as soon as you get to your room."

Beth smiled. Her dad knew her. "Was it romantic?"

"Mmm-hmm. When they weren't there," he muttered more quietly, and Beth looked up at him. "I love your aunts, sweetie. But I also really liked just spending time with your mom. A lot."

"Me too." Beth sighed. "I wish I had letters too."

Her father slid his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little hug. "One day you might get letters," he told her. "But your great-grandma and your grandma and your mom, and all the other women who came before them, and _you_ , are strong and smart and brave. You don't just sit at home and wait for letters. You go out and do things that _you_ can write about. That's one of the reasons I love your mom so much. That's one of the reasons you're so special, ladybug."

"I guess... I just hope someday someone takes me for a picnic at the river and wants to go steady and loves me like you love Mommy."

Her father stopped and knelt down so he was looking up into her eyes. "And I hope that too," he told her. "But no matter what, you have me and your mom, baby girl. And we will always love you, and think that you're amazing. And we will always be proud of you."

Beth smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he hugged her too. Being in her parents' arms had always made her feel safe and loved. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, ladybug."

"Come on, guys!" Beth's mom called from the porch, and her father released her from the hug. "I don't know how much longer I can hold him back! He just tried to scale the refrigerator!"

"Moooom," E.J. groaned. "Did not! I was gonna use a chair!"

Beth ran toward her little brother and gave him a hug. "You are a bottomless pit," she teased him, the same way her mother sometimes teased her father when he wanted a second helping of spaghetti or the last pork chop.

"Am not! I just want one more cookie." E.J. stuck his lower lip out. "Please?"

That night, after Beth was in her pajamas, she went to the den and saw her parents sitting together on the couch, her father's arm around her mother's shoulders, and they were gazing at each other. Her father looked at her mother the same way he always had, the way she had imagined her great-grandpa had looked at her great-grandma.

"I was just telling your dad that maybe we should all go on a picnic," Beth's mom said, looking at her with a smile. "Down by the river, where we used to go. We can see if Hannah will make some potato salad for us, like she used to."

Beth's eyes lit up. "That would be so neat!" she squealed. "Tomorrow?"

Her father chuckled. "Not that soon, ladybug. Maybe in a week or two, when it's warmer. It'll be a lot nicer, trust me."

Beth nodded. "It sounds like so much fun," she said, and jumped up and down a little.

Her mother laughed, and beckoned her. "C'mere, sweetie."

Then her mom wrapped her in a long hug and kissed the crown of her head. "I love you, Elizabeth," she murmured. "You'll always be my baby girl."

"I love you too, Mommy," Beth said. She gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then gave her dad a hug, too. "Can I see the letters you sent Daddy sometime?"

Her parents exchanged a glance. "Some of them," her mom said, and they were smiling at each other.

"I want to write postcards from all over the world too," Beth said. "I want to have big fun adventures too."

"And I know you will," her mother told her, and stroked her hair back from her cheeks. "And you'll send me and your dad letters to let us know how you're doing."

Her father snickered. "Postcard? I think not. Phone call when the plane _lands_. Phone call when she checks into the hotel. Phone call when she sprains her ankle pursuing a suspect. And then I'll be on the first flight out..."

Beth's mother shook her head as she looked at Beth, still smiling a little. "Your father's silly," she said quietly.

"Silly? You _think_ you've seen protective. You know how I get when someone threatens a person I love."

"True. Half the reason you followed me around the globe."

"The other half being that I have always been head over heels in love with you, Nancy Drew."

Beth's mom kissed her on the cheek. "You'd better head to bed," she told her, her blue eyes dancing. "Your dad can get very sentimental sometimes. You don't want to be here to see it."

But Beth couldn't help it; she did turn around, just in time to see her father draw her mother to him and kiss her, and they didn't part immediately.

Back in her room, Beth went to her desk and the big two-volume dictionary her father had given her for her seventh birthday, the one he had used in college, with the little drawer in the case and the magnifying glass inside it. When Beth had first seen it, it had reminded her of her mother. Her mother kept her desk locked, but Beth had figured out how to open it. Then her mother had caught her looking at a set of thin metal tools, and the frown of dismay on her face had softened into a smile when Beth had seen her.

That night at dinner, when her mother had told her father, he had just shaken his head. "Takes after her mom," he had said.

Beth pressed her lips together and pushed the second volume back into the case, then propped her chin on her hand. She had finished the worksheet Miss Randolph had given them, but she decided to talk to her mom too, and her grandpa, and Papa. She wanted to learn about them and her other grandma, and her great-grandma too. Maybe she had had picnics with a nice boy at the river, too. Maybe she had learned how to fly a plane, like Beth's parents. Maybe she had built houses or raised chickens or loved math.

Miss Randolph had told the students in Beth's class that they could be anything they wanted to be, anything they set their minds to be. They didn't have to be just like their parents, not if they didn't want to be.

But Beth thought nothing could be better than being like her parents and her grandparents. They were kind and smart and brave, and they loved to help people. Beth wanted to do that, too. Just like her mom and dad.

She had settled under the covers, and her eyelids were heavy when she reached for the small notebook she kept beside her bed, the same way her mother had when she was Beth's age, and carefully wrote down _shapperown_ , then crossed out the _s_ and wrote a _c_ above it. Then she wrote _sentimental._

Being sentimental wouldn't be so bad either, she thought, settling back under the covers, if that was what her parents were with each other.


End file.
